


Respectfully Looking

by dogitemi



Category: Karanduun
Genre: Bromance, Dimension Travel, Matabang Bolpen, Multi, Voyeurism, it was a joke but now i'm cross-referencing all our shit please end me, two bros spying on smut fics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:15:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26835802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogitemi/pseuds/dogitemi
Summary: There is only thing Talim and Lahabrea seem to have in common: they both like to watch.
Relationships: Talim/Lahabrea Galima (Pestilence)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Respectfully Looking

**Author's Note:**

> yeah

Talim knew he would get fucked over once the folks over at work found out about this little accident, but not, he decided, as fucked over as the girl being ravished in the theater seats at that moment.

One moment Talim was handling Batumbakal Co.’s latest acquisition: it was shiny, black, about six inches, and fairly thick, at least whenever it managed to maintain a solid form - it would shift and ripple and distort as if it were underwater. It took hours just to be able to _hold_ it, but he was able to take it apart enough to find the blood-red ink chamber inside it and ascertain that it was, for the most part, just a fat ballpoint pen. He’d taken a sheet of paper and pressed the pen tip to it.

The next moment, he stood just beside a stage inside a grand theater, pen in hand, the sudden gold lights and cold air shocking him. He moved to leave but froze when he saw the couple in the front row.

The woman was topless, straddling the man who was sucking at her breast and pulling at her long, wavy hair. She pulled his shirt off, revealing defined muscles and jagged scars, and kissed his neck.

Talim _should_ have fled right then and there, but instead he placed a hand against the stage and stared. He wasn’t very well-hidden, but it seemed like the couple was so entranced with each other that they wouldn’t notice him even if he stood right in front of them.

Was he turned on? He was probably turned on - why else would he make no move to escape even as the couple stripped, and the woman knelt to suck the scarred man off, and the scarred man pulled her to his lap and plunged his fingers into her, and they were gasping, moaning, muttering names Talim didn’t recognize…? It was fucking hot, to be sure, but Talim made no move to touch himself or anything. He simply… watched.

It was only around when the girl had mostly finished screaming her lover’s name - Re… Reza, was it? - and they were beginning to pick their clothes up from the carpeted floor that a squeak by Talim’s hand made him turn to look.

A gray rat had scampered onto his arm and was sniffing at his sleeve.

Talim choked his yelp down, swung his arm, and punted the rat so forcefully that it landed with a sharp squeak somewhere in the middle rows. The girl turned to look in its direction, startled.

“What was that?” she asked.

Reza pulled his black turtleneck on and craned his neck to look at the source of the noise. It only took a moment, however, before he turned and focused his gaze straight at the stage side.

Talim pressed a hand over his masked mouth and flattened himself against the stage.

Reza narrowed his eyes and took a step forward-

“Gross! It’s a dead rat!” the woman cried out. “What the hell? How did it even get here?”

A long pause. Talim convinced himself that he actually felt Reza’s gaze tear away when the man replied, “Shame such a beautiful theater has a terrible maintenance staff. Will you mention this negligence to your mother, or shall I?”

“Don’t cost people their jobs,” the woman snapped, “I’m sure this is just an isolated thing. Besides, my mom will ask what we were doing here at this time, and I…”

Talim didn’t need to look to know that the woman’s face was a flushed red. “Th-that, well… we, I-”

Reza chuckled. “That her precious daughter gave her virginity away in her mother's workplace, to a dangerous man she came to threaten? I imagine that wouldn’t be a cheery conversation. Fine, then. I won’t tell a soul.” Amid her noises of indignation, Talim heard the light smack of a kiss - did he kiss her cheek? Her hand? Talim wished it was safe enough to look, goddammit - which silenced her. “But I _will_ see you again, angel.”

The carpet silenced footsteps, so it was only when he heard the theater’s double doors open and shut that Talim knew Reza had left.

Just as he exhaled in relief, the girl yelled. Maybe in frustration, maybe in giddiness. Maybe both. Figuring she was less of a threat than her lover, Talim returned to his viewing spot - hands in his pockets to prevent another rodent from surprising him - and watched as she dressed. She fumed the entire time, muttering things like “God! _God!_ I will kill him!” and “Stupid, pompous, sexy asshole… _fuck_ , Tala! _Why the fuck!_ ” as she pulled her skirt on and smoothed her hair off her face.

She seemed to take a moment to consider cleaning up - the rat, for one, in addition to whatever stains they might have left on the seats - before shaking her head and walking determinedly out of the theater.

Talim sighed, strode over to the front row, and slumped into a seat beside where the couple had made love. He pulled the pen out of his pocket. It was once again distorting, and slipped right through his fingers. He cursed, trying to pick it up off the floor. “What _are_ you?” he said, the pen phasing through his hands like smoke.

The voice came from behind him. “An observer, usually.” 

Talim shrieked.

A man was sitting a few rows behind him, cradling the dead rat in his hand. “Hi.”

Talim fell back on his ass. He managed to grasp the pen and reflexively held it out in front of him like a weapon. “What are you doing here?!”

“What are _you_ doing here?” the man shot back, all his attention focused on stroking the rat corpse lightly with a finger. 

“I was… I just ended up here. Look, it was this thing!” He pointed at the pen. “I know you won’t believe me, but this brought me here, and I just… well, I couldn’t leave, could I? I, I mean! I didn’t _mean_ to watch, I just ended up watching!”

“Oh. Same.”

Talim swallowed. “I didn’t mean for your rat to die either. I was shocked.”

“That’s fine. They do that often.” The man tugged the collar of his shirt open and dropped the corpse inside. He patted his torso. “Die, I mean.”

The man had a stubble beard, tired eyes, and messy hair pulled back into a bun. His most notable feature, however, wasn’t his handsomeness - he looked like he could be a matinee idol in another life - but the giant white rat that perched lazily on his shoulder.

Talim stared at him.

The man and his tomcat-sized rat stared back.

“This is Lahabremy,” the man said, pointing at his pet.

“I…”

“Bye.” He turned around and started for the exit.

Talim stood. “Wait, how the hell did you get in here? How did I get in here? Did you just drop that rat down your shirt? What-”

“The pen’s a Bloodspill and you’re in a different reality,” the stranger replied, not turning, “Open it up, I guess. I dunno.”

“Oh, _sure_. _Open it up, I guess_ ,” Talim mimicked, clutching the pen cap in his other hand. “ _I dunno._ ” He pulled it off. “Opening it is what got me here in the first-” He dropped his arm in exasperation and felt the exposed pen brush against the back of a theater seat.

The darkness was the first thing that hit him.

No, it wasn’t _completely_ dark… Talim’s eyes adjusted. He stood in his workstation - terribly dim after the bright golden lights of the theater. The santelmo in his long-necked lamp illuminated only the parts and papers on his desk, and not much else. He spun around.

It was something about how the air tasted and the way the slight humming in his bones had ceased that he knew he was home. Not just in the right place, but the right reality.

_The pen’s a Bloodspill, and you’re in a different reality._

Said pen decided to phase out of his hands - cap and all - and clatter onto the ground.

Talim pulled out a chair and fished for a pencil in one of the drawers. His notes and diagrams on the pen were untouched. He glanced up at the clock mounted on the wall. If he wasn’t mistaken, no time at all had passed since he was here, despite having been in the theater for… half an hour? Maybe more?

He pulled out a separate notepad. It was important to be thorough with your records when fiddling with technology, and he figured his bosses wouldn’t appreciate his detailed account of the passionate fucking he witnessed. Talim reddened as he began to write.

The vibration from his anting-anting on the desk made him flinch.

The messenger diwata materialized above it. “Hey, Talim!”

“Pawikani,” he said, shielding his materials with his arms before he realized they couldn’t even see it.

“Got a moment?” Pawikani continued.

“Yeah. Yeah, um, let me just…”

Pawikani was more important than this _thing_ , he decided, glancing over at the pen, still shifting around on the ground. The moment it looked _sort of_ solid he snatched the pen and cap off the floor and capped it.

“If you’re doing something important I can call again,” they said.

“No, I just need to note something…” Talim dropped the pen in the drawer and took the pencil. In the corner of his diagram he wrote _FOR LATER._

_Bloodspill_

_Reza_

_Tala???_

He bit the end of his pencil.

 _Rat guy_ , he wrote, underlining thrice, before speaking to Pawikani.

**Author's Note:**

> imagine making a joke about writing a fic for thebroyeurs, fully intending to shitpost it, and then two days later you have a plot and are rereading the entire archive and making it one of the first multi-chapter fics in the karanduun tag
> 
> anyway i have the whole thing outlined, might end up being... idk..... 5? chapters?? which i hope to finish before bonepickers' next session
> 
> make god bleed


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